Following our antics in the favella the previous night, it was surprising how early we rose to begin our journey to 'Ilha Grande' (Big Island). Unfortunately, due to yet more staff blunders, our 10:30A.M. transfer failed to materialise! At 12P.M. a taxi rolled up outside and Jess, Ruth and I (along with all our bags) bundled into the back to join an nefarious looking Brazillian woman. Apparently, the normal shuttle bus that ferries people between Rio and the port was stolen the night before! Two hours of driving which could put Lewis Hamilton to shame, a drug "stop and search" on the roadside by state police and we had to sprint for our boat. All aboard, Alice, Liat, Ruth and I sheltered under an umbrella as the boat pitched over wave after wave causing a spray to whip the boat. Surprisingly, we got the wettest when the cap came off our vodka bottle...suitably cocktailed, we disembarked onto a jetty (of which I was not the greatest fan due to the inherent fact I seemed incapable of standing safely upon it!). A short walk followed and we found ourselves in our hostel overlooking the bay, it was beautiful, especially as the sun sunk behind the mountains. We wiled the rest of the day away, had dinner and a Caipiriniah and off to bed!

As we reached a week in Rio, we began the day at our favourite juice bar with a brief stint at the beach. That afternoon we jumped on a bus and along with our guide head to "Rocinha", Brazil's largest favella. Upon arriving at the foot of the favella which covered an enormous area in the south of the city, we were placed in the charge of a moto-taxi driver who wisked us up to the top of the favella via it's main artery. I can genuinely say I was petrified, the guy I was with seemed to have decided he was to race every other gringo in our party up the hill regardless of oncoming traffic, hairpin bends andmy well being. I dismounted the bike after a hair raising ten minutes with white knuckles! From the 'wealthy' upper favella, we made our way through the narrow streets avoiding the juices of the favella which ran through the streets down into the poorer parts of the favella. Having studied favellas so much during my time at school, it was amazing to actually experience one for myself! It was fairly daunting how openly people were weilding handguns and our movements were being followed by rooftop lookouts on walkie-talkies. As we moved through the gangs territories, we were warned not to take photos due to drug dealers weirdly wanting to protect their anonimity. We ended up in a child's daycare facility which was funded by the majority of the money we paid for the tour, it made the tour feel a lot more worthwhile and less like daylight robbery!


Toward the bottom of the favella, the walls were peppered with bulletholes as a reminder of the gang wars which dominate life in these places. At the base of the favella, we saw the beginnings of a governement initiative to build a cable car to the top of the favella, all well and good despite the fact they ousted thousands of people from their homes to make way for construction! It was such an amazing experience and definitely changed my perception of life in a favella.


The next day was the beginning of the FIFA World Cup in South Africa and our first rainy day in Rio. Due to staff incompetence we had to move from Ipanema back Copacabana but within the same chain. We watched Mexico vs South Africa and an uneventful day passed us by. The following day, we made our way to the 'FIFA Fan Fest', a huge screen set up right on the beach showing match after match after match. Today was England's turn to play the USA, upon arrival, we located some friends and set up camp. Five girls from Hong Kong, one guy from Surrey, fifteen boys from Essex and we were set - we were by far the loudest and largest contingent of English people there and the singing was non-stop! When England miraculously scored a plume of beer shot into the air and the floor became a sprawling mass of sandy Essex boys. The evening passed by in a bar called 'Mud Bugs' and I soon found myself in bed.

The following day was nothing short of farcical, due to some shortsighted design within the hostel, the water tank which supplied the toilets, showers and taps ran dry and being a Sunday there was nobody available to remedy the situation! As you can imagine, hostels don't smell fantastic at the best of times, add to this the smell of about sixty unwashed people and a whole days worth of toilet time from those sixty people and minus a flush...it was gross! Desperate for a shower all day, I finally managed a quick (and slightly electrifying shower) at 10P.M. The day was wasted due to a lack of cleanliness but the evening was the night of the 'Favella Funk', a tour organised to a favella complete with it's own nightclub! It was a random night with fireworks going off indoors and the locals performing what can only be described as their answer to the 'Macarena' for the duration of the night - regardless of the song. The whole evening was an experience from the dingy warehouse club to the almost rabid local men, I'm glad I did it but I won't be repeating such a thing. Back at the hostel we slunk to bed, dreading the prospect of an early morning...

Some people would say travelling is a cliche, that you see and do things along a prescribed route along which thousands before you and thousands more are sure to follow. In many ways it's true, I'm sure I'm not unique in the journey I've made and the things that I have done, what makes the whole experience unique is the people you meet and the memories that they help create and share.

In the time I've been away I've had the pleasure of meeting hoardes of people (and the displeasure at meeting a handful of others!), people from all over the world, across huge age ranges from 18-66. Regardless of whether they live thousands of miles away or if they live up the road, the time spent with each person along the road no matter how short or how long helped to shape my experience.

I want to thank everyone who pushed me to keep up with my journal on the road, everyone who helped jog my memory and most importantly everyone who has given me so many great memories to fill my journals with. Thank You All.

Despite a full day aboard a bus, lovely as it was, we were feeling a little groggy but we still mustered elation at the glaring sunshine which welcomed us to Rio de Janeiro! Our first stop was the area of Ipanema where we spent the best part of the afternoon looking for vacancies, unfortunately, due to a religious festival the previous day there was no space. Slightly despondent and extremely sweaty, we secumb to fatigue and got a taxi to Mellow Yellow - a hostel toted as the worst hostel people had ever been to, we were desperate! We checked in, Becky, Alice and I in 'Samba' and Jess, Ruth and Liat in the aptly ned 'Favella', a 24 bed dorm with bunks stacked 3 high! It was a dingy dump but we made the most of it.

A buffet dinner, a trip to the bar and we head out to the neighbourhood of 'Lapa', Rio's main samba district. Friday nights were purportedly samba central with a vibrant yet dangerous street party. We arrived and failed to see any form of street performance, musical or physical, as rain began to make it's way onto the pavements we made the executive decision to leave! Nobody was particularly interested in paying R$60 (£23) to go into a club when visiting a local street party. A little disappointed with the whole experience, we arrived home and head to bed.

With our second Brazillian let down under our belt, the following day we went to check out Copacabana beach. As soon as we got settled it began to rain! Things in Rio aren't going too well, we did manage to catch a shuttle bus to a shopping centre where we indulged ourselves in a guilty pleasure - "Sex and the City 2". Uplifted, a taxi home and we got an all you can eat BBQ at the hostel! Thoroughly grossed out by Mellow Yellow and with the discovery of a travellers biggest foe - bed bugs, I can't convey how happy I was about checking out! Idiotic staff, dirty pokey rooms and a horrible and dingey layout, the reviews we read weren't far off...


From Copacabana, we head to Ipanema; another beach separated by a large headland, reportedly much safer and nicer than it's more famous counterpart. We attempted another day at the beach but sadly the rain drove us into a Sunday street market instead which wasn't all bad. That evening we head to the aptly named "Le Boy", a Rio gay club with some of the best music I have heard travelling and my first experience of cover charges being biased toward guys over girls! We had an absolute ball, the music was great, the atmosphere was really friendly and everyone was really up for it - even the Essex boys who came along! We were driven home by the hideous drag show at around 4A.M. but I think it was necessary. After a taxi home, we pissed everyone in our room off and went to sleep, a good night all round!


The following day heralded my first South American beach day, beautfiul clear blue skies and blistering sunshine were on the cards! With some tanning under our belt, Liat and I head up the beach for a run (my first conscious attempt at exercise since my travels began!). On our return, the girls went a little overboard with buying bikinis off the beach vendors! Food and drink arrived in our laps every twenty minutes, we had no reason to leave...it is disturbing though how "Oi" is the way to attract someone's attention! As the sun fled behind Rio's landscape, we fled the beach, sorted dinner and spent the evening watching "The Blind Side", a surprisingly good offering from Sandra Bullock! Unfortunately, I had made a laundry day fail that morning and put all the clothes I owned into wash bar the clothes I was wearing. Having spent the day on the beach in my only shorts and tshirt, I encoutered several problems come evening time; firstly, having showered I had nothing to dry with and secondly I had no fresh clothes to put on! At this point the girls saved me and I ended up in Ruth's jeans and Liat's Brazil top, it was a good look for me...? Lord knows what I would have done had I been on my own!


The next day was another beach day, with sand sufficiently crammed into each and every orrifice, we head to a travel agent to enquire about heading to Salvador - it was a total rip off! The journey wasn't totally wasted as Jess and I managed to get our laundry so back home, showered and dressed in male clothing, our room was invaded by Essex boys we had met a few days earlier. Things went from bad to worse, mine and Jess' peaceful room was thrown into dissarray and after dinner, the boys just kept throwing drinks our way!! We head to a bar and many antics passed us by and much gossip was in the making, obviously it is irrelevant to you guys but it's pretty much what you'd expect when a group of girls mingles with a group of guys! A fairly uneventful yet enjoyable day in Rio.


For my final day in this Rio blog not a whole lot happened, we sampled Brazil's answer to McDonalds in the form of 'Bob's Burger' and head back to the hostel after a brief stint on the beach and all just montes out! Dinner was a simple pasta and the night passed watching 'Case 39'. One highlight to the day was that following nearly 3 and a half months, I finished my book; "The Dice Man". A fairly thought provoking yet extremely disturbing book filled with rape, murder and general immoratlity, it was an arduous read yet it did lead you to contemplate how you think about things. Luckily, I finished at just the right time, the Hong Kong girls are like a walking library!